Everything's Fine
by Kazo Sakamari
Summary: James is worried. Sirius is different this year. Something happened, James is sure of it. They did something to him. He could feel it.


This is part of a much longer story that I have going on the Marauder's and the aftermath of the Prank, but it's not ready yet and I just couldn't wait to get this section written so I though I'd put it up just because.

Hope you all like it, please leave a review! I'd love to hear what you all think of it!

As always, I own nothing.

* * *

The platform was crowded as James looked around. He didn't see him. Didn't see Remus or Peter either yet but he'd just arrived.

He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. It didn't mean anything. It didn't mean a single thing.

He glanced around the platform again and caught a glimpse of the backside of Remus and his mother and nodded to his parents and the three of them walked over.

Remus looked like shit and for a moment James wondered what had happened before he remembered that the full moon had only been two days ago. Two days ago and he hadn't been there. None of them had been there.

While his parents and Remus' mum talked he raised his eyebrow at the shorter boy and Remus scowled.

"Leave it James."

"I didn't even say anything."

"Your face said enough." Remus snapped and James put his hands up.

"Fine, you seen Peter yet? I haven't heard from him in a few weeks."

Remus shook his head and glanced around the platform in disinterest, self consciously shielding his shiny new prefect badge from James.

"Where's Sirius?" He asked after a moment, realizing that Sirius wasn't attached to James' side like he normally was.

Running a hand through his hair James shook his head. Trying to keep his head on straight and failing. Horribly.

Sirius wasn't here. He was sure of it. He couldn't feel him. Couldn't see him.

He was worried.

Had been worried since he woke up last night in a panic.

Dreaming about Sirius.

Always about Sirius.

About Sirius screaming. Bleeding. Crying.

And now he was here. And he couldn't see Sirius. Couldn't feel him.

And Remus was in a shit mood and Peter was nowhere to be found and _fuck_.

What a great start to the school year.

James sighed and Remus frowned at him, a faint thread of concern slipping through his annoyance.

"Come on, let's get our stuff on the train."

They said their goodbyes to their parents and clambered on the train with their bags. James hovers for a moment to see if Remus needed help and got a sharp smack from the werewolf.

"I was just trying to help." James muttered as they shoved their trunks in front of them to the cabin in the very back of the train.

"Yeah, well I don't need your fucking help."

"Yeah, sure, because I can totally see that."

"Shut the fuck up James."

They open the compartment door and see Sirius slouched against the window asleep.

There's utter silence for a moment as they both stare at Sirius before Remus nudges James and he coughs.

"Sirius?"

Sirius stirs and blinks lazily for a moment before focusing on James.

"Oh, hey."

"What are you doing?"

Sirius rubs his eyes and frowns, "nothing...I got here early."

"Okay." Remus takes this as it is and shoves his trunk in and growls when Sirius tries to help.

"He's in a mood." James mutters and Remus rounds on him.

"Don't fucking start James."

Sirius watches them for a moment before slouching back into his corner and James gets a good look at him. He looks fine.

Tired maybe.

But fine.

There's no blood anywhere. No cuts. No scrapes. Nothing is wrong with him. Nothing that would make him scream and cry and bleed.

He's fine.

He looks perfectly fine and James is freaking out because it felt so real last night.

Because he had heard Sirius begging him for help, right next to him.

And now Sirius is fine.

But James can still feel the exhaustion in his head, the flickers of pain and confusion.

He's staring at Sirius and it takes him a moment to realize Sirius is staring back.

Remus is gone and James didn't even notice him leaving.

"Don't think about it." Sirius says slowly and James stares at him.

"What?"

"Just don't think about it."

* * *

The sun is steaming through the curtains of his four-poster bed and James opens his eyes to a blurry vision of Sirius sitting up in bed.

He reaches around on his nightstand blindly until he feels the cool metal of his glasses and puts them on.

Sirius is sitting there, just sitting up in bed shirtless and staring out at nothing.

James watches him for a long while until he hears Remus' alarm go off and the dormitory is filled with the small sounds of Remus and Peter waking up. Joining the world of the living.

The tense train ride, the argument with Evans at the feast, Remus yelling at them in the common room, Peter fucking passing out, all the shit from yesterday floods back into his mind and he frowns.

He stares at Sirius and frowns and watches as Sirius' eyes slide back into focus once Remus starts to get dressed.

Sirius looks over at him with his liquid silver eyes and his face pales.

"James." Sirius whispers it and James feels chills run down his spine. He's heard that tone of voice before. He gets up and makes the short journey to Sirius bed, where he sits down and curls his legs under him and looks at his friend.

"What's wrong?"

Sirius shakes his head with an unreadable look on his face and James lets it go. For now.

Lets his fingers trace the pattern on the sheets and sighs, "skip class with me?"

"It's the first day back Jay." Sirius mummers.

"It's not like we haven't done it before."

"Remus is a prefect this year."

"Who gives a fuck?" James asked, a flicker of annoyance creeping into his voice and Sirius eyes him carefully. James sighs in apology and runs a hand through his hair, wondering if Sirius actually cared that Remus had been named prefect or not. If he actually cared that Remus had been named prefect or not and sighed again.

"I don't want to deal with this shit today Sirius."

He stares at the pattern in the sheets because he doesn't want to look into Sirius' liquid silver eyes right now and waits. Waits for Sirius to make a decision. For Sirius to decide what happens to them. To their lives.

"Okay."

* * *

They walk slowly and carefully through the forest. James a half step behind Sirius and the taller boy navigates the forest trails with ease.

Sirius had always been better in the forest. In the dark cover of the trees. Hidden and hiding. Something about the place calmed him down. Made him easier to deal with. To talk to. To be around.

Not that James ever had issues with these things. Not with Sirius. But sometimes it was nice to have it a little easier.

There's a bottle of whiskey in his bag that he'd smuggled into the school and he digs it out while Sirius pauses to examine the clearing before them.

He takes a long drink. It's hot and it burns his throat and he coughs for a moment, Sirius glancing back at him with his silver eyes.

James holds out the bottle and Sirius waves it away and sits down on a fallen tree. His body curling inwards, like he's collapsing onto himself.

His fiddling with his butterfly knife that he'd bought years ago and James leans against a large maple tree and watches him.

Sirius with his pale skin and black hair and eerie silver eyes. Flipping his eerie silver knife around his fingers.

James leans there and drinks his whiskey and feels it bubbling around in his stomach and warming his body, his fingers and toes and smirks.

Everything is shit.

Remus is fucking killing himself. Peter spent his summer ripped between his divorced parents. Lily won't even fucking talk to him anymore.

And Sirius.

There's always Sirius.

James pushes his glasses up his nose and watches as Sirius twirls the silver blade around his long thin fingers and takes him in.

He's different.

He is.

Something fucking happened.

James is sure of it. He felt it the night before the train. He felt it last night.

He fucking saw it on Sirius' face this morning.

He saw it in Sirius' eyes.

He takes another long swig of whiskey and stares at Sirius and his sharp silver knife.

"Sirius."

"James." Sirius counters, not even bothering to look up.

James opens his mouth but the words won't come and Sirius peers up at him through his black fringe and they stare at each other.

"Don't." Sirius whispers and James closes his eyes. There's that voice again.

Sirius is begging him.

Right now. That's what he's doing.

But he fucking felt it. Before the train. Last night. Right fucking now.

They did something to him.

Those bastards that he calls his parents did something to him.

James fucking knows it.

He can taste the whiskey in his throat, feel it on his tongue, in the back of his mind.

They did something to Sirius.

To his Sirius.

They hurt him.

They fucking hurt him and Sirius screamed and cried and bleed and Sirius fucking begged him for help and he wasn't there.

Just like he wasn't there to stop Remus from clawing his body to shreds. Like he wasn't there to comfort Peter when his family got ripped apart. Like he wasn't there to talk to Lily when she needed someone to talk to.

He couldn't help.

And it's eating away at him. Eating him up.

Everything is shit because Remus is trying to kill himself once a month and Peter is breaking under the pressure and Lily hates him and Sirius is hurt and everything is shit and James can't fucking deal with this.

"What did they do to you?"

Sirius flicks the knife shut with a clink and stares at James.

"James. Don't."

"What did they do to you?" James repeats and Sirius glares at him. His back is tense and his jaw is tight and James can practically see the gears turning in his head. Can feel the anger and annoyance and energy radiating from him as he sits there glaring.

"They hurt you. I fucking felt it. I felt it Sirius. _I heard you_."

"James…"

"Don't fucking tell me it was just a fucking dream!" James snarled and Sirius stood up abruptly. "I fucking felt it. I heard you Sirius! I fucking _heard_ you."

Sirius stands there, a ball of fucking nervous energy and James gets this image of a dog. Ready to pounce or run or fight. Ready for something but it doesn't know what. Waiting for an order from its master. Waiting for something. Anything to set it off.

"What did they do to you?"

Sirius lets out a strangled noise and takes a step toward James.

"Would you fucking drop it?!" He snarls and James shakes his head.

His glasses are slipping down his nose and he wants to push them back up but Sirius is right fucking there. Getting closer with every menacing step.

His back is pressed against the rough bark of the tree and the whiskey drops from his hand and the bottle drops to the soft dirt floor, splashes of honey colored liquid dampening his shoes.

Sirius stands there, towering over him and James is acutely aware of how close they are. Sirius' nose is mere centimeters away and James can feel his breath on his face and the body heat emanating from him.

Sirius eyes him like he's about ready to slice him to pieces and James swallows thickly.

The bottle lays at their feet, slowly spilling its contents onto the dirt floor of the forest and Sirius traces his fingers along the lines of James' now empty hand.

James sucks in a breath at the touch. Sirius' hands are cold and he can feel everything so much sharper when Sirius is touching him.

When Sirius is close.

When they're close.

Their hands press together and Sirius laces his fingers through James, pressing him against the tree and holding him there with his weight.

If it was anyone else. Anything else. James would be scared. Would feel fear in this situation.

But it's not anyone else. Anything else. It's Sirius.

And James is never scared of Sirius.

Sometimes he's scared _for_ Sirius.

But he's never scared _of_ Sirius.

Because whatever happens to Sirius happens to him. And whatever happens to him happens to Sirius.

And they hurt together.

Always.

Forever.

"What did they do to you?" He breaths out and Sirius closes his eyes and shoves James harder against the tree and James grimaces.

They take a deep shuddering breath together and James catches a glimpse of the shining silver knife twisting through the air before Sirius stabs it through their linked hands, burrowing the blade into the hard wood of the maple tree.

James sucks in a sharp breath and feels the pain coursing through his body. Feels the blood trickling out. Feels Sirius' fingers tighten around his.

Sirius takes a shaky breath and drops his head into the crook of James neck and collapses against him.

His body sags and breaks and James clutches him with the one hand that isn't impaled against a fucking tree with Sirius' knife and holds him.

Tears dampen James' shirt and he can feel Sirius' shoulders shaking and hears his sobbing and waits as Sirius' fingers curl into the fabric of James' shirt and James just holds him as they bleed together.

He can feel their blood, their blood swirling together, dripping down his wrist and Sirius shaking against him and he curls the fingers of his free hand into Sirius hair and holds him until the shaking stops. Until the tears stop.

Until Sirius stops.

He doesn't know how long it's been. Doesn't know if he wants it to end. But knows that it has to.

Slowly Sirius peels himself off James and yanks the knife out of their linked hands. James flinches and Sirius presses his forehead to James, a hand at the nape of James' neck, holding him tightly.

If it was anyone else, James would have been afraid, being held in place by this taller, stronger, unstable boy. But he doesn't, because it's Sirius.

"I don't deserve you." Sirius whispers and James shakes his head and clutches Sirius tightly. Holds Sirius to him like he's being held to Sirius. Afraid to let each other go.

"We deserve each other."

Their blood trickles down their arms and drips onto the forest floor and they link their hands together, mixing it between them. Keeping each other close.

* * *

Remus opens the dormitory door with war in his eyes and takes in the scene before him.

James is sprawled on Sirius' bed with bloodshot eyes, stinking of whiskey, looking like he's lost something inside. Sirius is curled up at his feet, eyes red and puffy and face pale and drawn. Their hands are bandaged in white cloth with blood seeping through and Remus frowns at them.

Opens his mouth to say something about how they missed every class on their first day back and skipped lunch and dinner and how it makes him look bad because the only fucking reason he was named prefect is to try to fucking control them. And it's been one bloody day and he failed at that. He's always fucking failed at that.

But he just stops and stares at them because they're a fucking mess and they're bleeding and tired and Remus can fucking identify with that so he lets them be.

They don't say anything to him or to Peter when he finally shows up and by the time Remus turns the lights off in the dormitory they haven't moved from Sirius' bed.

When he wakes up the next morning they're still there, curled around each other looking bloody and broken and as if they'd be lost in the world without each other.

* * *

"Mr. Potter. Mr. Black."

Sirius and James pause and wait for the lecture they know is coming from McGonagall.

"The two of you missed every single class yesterday."

Sirius glanced at James who was busy focusing on the grain of the wood on the desk and looked away. They accepted their detentions with unusual tact and compliance and Sirius carefully gathered James' books and parchment while James figured out the details with McGonagall. He stands behind James, just a hair closer than anyone else would dare and hands him his book bag carefully.

If McGonagall noticed the matching bandages on their hands she didn't say a word.

It was only when they were about ready to leave that she spoke up, her voice softer this time. Not as strict, not as sharp.

"Potter, Black…is everything okay?"

Sirius and James lock eyes for a long moment before turning back to McGonagall and surprisingly it's Sirius who answers.

"Everything's fine professor."

* * *

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